Kurt's Revenge
by InterNutter
Summary: What happened *after* the events seen in Rogue Angel's _Kurt and the Sims_ Complete Fic!


Disclaimer: Theirs is theirs. Mine is mine. This is mine, with bits of  
theirs. Please don't rip off mine.  
  
Archiving: email cat@devil.com and ask nice. You can also send comments.  
I like comments :)  
  
Code-o-rama: *bla* - bold  
_bla_ - italics or thoughts  
{bla} - sound effect  
  
From the Author: I couldn't leave things as they stood at the end of  
Rogue Angel's _Kurt and the Sims_ so I decided to enact a little fanfic  
revenge. Sorry, Rogue Angel :) Hey, maybe we could start a fanfic war ;)  
  
Kurt's Revenge  
InterNutter  
  
Played for a fool.  
Kurt slunk into his room and spent a good ten minutes punching the  
living hell out of his pillows. Stupid hick-boy. Dumb peasant. So what  
if Heirelgart wasn't the first word in technological advancement? Heck,  
it was so far behind, it barely qualified for the *last* word.  
It was no wonder, then, that he tended to classify technology as some  
kind of magic. Press the right buttons, do the right dance, and things  
happened the right way.  
Kitty shouldn't have played him for a fool.  
But she did.  
He slunk back to her PC and watched, detached, as GameKitty and  
GameLance had the time of their lives.  
Simulated romance.  
His screen-self was hanging out at the mall, too. Idly, he moved the  
mouse, making his image have a little fun. GameKurt was drowning his  
sorrows at a soda shop when an alert popped up. Something was wrong with  
GameKitty.  
He paused, then cheated to move his character closer. She looked like  
she was choking on the fish platter. Kurt saved the game, and a  
marvellously wicked idea overcame him.  
He could make Kitty believe in magic, too.  
He took a photo of the frozen scene, then bought the game back to  
speed. He made his virtual image plead for GameKitty's life from the  
Reaper, and they played chess.  
Too bad he hadn't brushed up on his virtual self's logic capabilities.  
He lost, and the Reaper took his image's life instead of GameKitty's.  
Pause. Photo. Save in a new name.  
Kurt smiled and bought up a word processor. Then, very carefully,  
began to type.  
  
"Huh," said Lance as they entered the mansion. "No sign of the  
freakshow. Must be still crying his freaky little eyes out." He laughed.  
"*Lance*... like, get a clue!" Kitty only hated one thing about Lance,  
and that was his ability to be a complete jerk, sometimes. "Leave him  
alone."  
"You *can't* like him," pleaded Lance. "I mean - you have to *see*  
him. Ew."  
"I said, leave him alone, Lance." Kitty pushed open her door and found  
a typed-up note on her PC. It was from Kurt. She sighed. _Oh great, now  
what?_  
"He leave you a mash note?" scoffed Lance. "Blue-boy really should  
have a clue by now. Maybe his head's full of hairballs."  
"His name is *Kurt*," Kitty said, her voice gone ice. "Oh, good  
*grief*. He still believes this game's like, magic." She sighed again.  
"Listen to this: 'Katzchen, I was able to save your life, but at the  
expense of my own. I will be putting my affairs in order, as I don't  
have much time. Have a good life, and avoid the fish platter. Sorry I  
wasn't able to say goodbye. I love you. Kurt.' Like, could he *possibly*  
get more pathetic?"  
Lance laughed. Then he stopped. "Hey, how did *he* know you had the  
fish platter today?"  
Kitty looked up the current game of the Sims. "I'm going to ram this  
note *right* up his--" she stared at him. "I *did* have the fish  
platter..."  
And so did the Kitty on the screen.  
Spooky.  
Kitty stormed all the way to Kurt's room, more so she could keep being  
angry rather than let herself get scared. She slammed open his door with  
a hostile, "KURT! This has gone like, *too* far!"  
Then she saw everything.  
He'd fallen from the stool that matched his dresser. He'd been writing  
something, and it looked like he'd just - dropped. She couldn't see if  
he was breathing.  
"OmyGod..." she whispered.  
"I'll get the Professor," said Lance.  
Kitty crept into his room. "Kurt?" she risked. No response. He looked  
like he'd just -- _Don't even think it. Don't._ -- dropped dead.  
Carefully, she checked his pulse. Faint. Slow.  
He was breathing, but it was shallow and also slow.  
Kitty didn't have the faintest clue what to do. She gingerly placed  
herself on the stool and read the itemised list he'd been putting  
together.  
  
1) Don't bury me in a glass box.  
2) Give Opa's brushes to Hank.  
3) Don't cry. My pain is over.  
4) Tell Mama und Papa  
  
Whatever he wanted to tell them, he hadn't had the time to write it  
down. A light line of pencil skidded off the page at that point. _God,  
this is scary. Make it stop._  
He was dressed almost exactly like his game-self. Was it co-incidence,  
or planning? Or was it really magic?  
_Get a grip, Pryde. It's just a stupid game._  
"Good lord," said the Professor's voice. "What *happened*?"  
"It's all my fault," Kitty whimpered, and spilled the whole story  
about how she'd fooled him into believing the game could influence  
reality. Then she launched her half-theory that maybe the game *had*  
influenced reality, because Kurt was on the brink of death in both  
cases. Maybe that was why he hadn't really died, because he'd paused the  
game.  
The Professor was quiet for a long time. "I think a more logical  
explanation is that Kurt truly *believed* in the power of the game.  
Saving his -er- 'SimSelf' wouldn't have any influence on reality,  
because he isn't aware of how the game is being played. Some tribal  
magics work in the same way. Through belief, it has power."  
"There's gotta be *something* we can like, do," Kitty begged. "He's  
not going to *stay* like this, is he?"  
"That will have to remain to be seen," he allowed. He summoned help to  
carry Kurt away to the hospital wing, and told Kitty to keep her hopes  
up.  
Kitty dived for the game, doing everything she could while still  
paused. The photo album clearly showed Kurt playing the Reaper for her  
life, then him sprawled on the ground. She picked out her SimSelf and  
made her play the Reaper. Just in case.  
She had full logic points. She couldn't lose.  
SimKurt was back up, alive, and was fast becoming friends again with  
her electronic self. Saving each other's lives kinda did that. She  
finished her virtual date with SimLance, and promptly ditched him to  
play chess with SimKurt.  
Get his woeful logic points up, at least.  
A riff from _Love Story_ played. SimKurt had fallen for Sim-her over a  
stupid game of *chess*! Like, how *boring* was that? Kitty looked up the  
stats. He was like *way* friendlier towards her than she was to him.  
Art imitating life, or life imitating art?  
She should have like, *known*. Kurt was like, *way* in love with her.  
Head over heels. All she had to do was like, *hint* at something, and  
there'd be a flying blue elf at her beck and call.  
He was like, just *too* desperate for words.  
She really shouldn't have played him like that.  
Kitty felt scummy.  
*Really* scummy.  
Like, bottom-of-the-grease-trap scummy.  
Kitty grabbed her laptop and headed down to the hospital wing. It had  
a game of battlechess on it. Maybe she could like, make things happen.  
On her way out, she remembered to pause and save the game.  
Just in case.  
  
Xavier sighed. Why did teenagers always have to take things to  
extremes? Still, a lesson was a lesson, regardless of where it came  
from. Perhaps, after this little shock, Kitty would be more mindful of  
how she influenced other people's feelings.  
He watched as she all but raced into the infirmary, demanding, "Is he  
okay? Like, any change?"  
"None. All his life signs are on minimum." What he neglected to  
mention was that Kurt's brain was still firing on all cylinders, as it  
were. The boy had quite a knack for yoga. Right now, for example, he was  
deep into a rather disturbing form of meditation that put the body into  
a form of suspended animation.  
Those on advanced levels could actually use it to appear dead.  
_Thank goodness he's not quite *that* good, yet,_ Xavier thought.  
_That *would* have been alarming._  
Kitty just muttered, "*Fine*." and opened her laptop.  
Xavier peeked through her eyes. _Battle Chess?_ Maybe Kurt had gone a  
tad too far...  
  
"Rrrrfff... NO! I've got max logic points, you doof of a computer!  
Okay. Best two out of three."  
Inside his mind, Kurt smiled. He allowed himself to surface slowly, so  
as not to set off any alarms. Best not to disturb Kitty. Not while she  
was acting so - unusually.  
"Okay. Best three out of five."  
Were he out of deep meditation, he would have laughed. Not at her,  
precisely, but at the situation. Kitty had obviously reversed her  
opinion of the whole reality-vs-computer-games thing.  
"NGH! Best four out of six."  
Kurt opened his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Letting his Chi flow  
properly.  
"AUGH! Five out of seven?"  
Kurt peered over her shoulder. "Knight to Bishop seven."  
Kitty nearly had a heart attack, jumping out of her seat like that.  
"*KURT*! You're like, okay! But - I haven't won the chess game, yet..."  
"Vas?"  
"I like, saved you on the Sims by like, playing with the Reaper. But  
like, I haven't won in real life yet..."  
Time to play devils advocate. "Isn't _The Sims_ just a game,  
Katzchen?"  
"Er... I--" She noticed he was sitting in a Lotus position, and put  
two and two together. "You set this whole thing up, didn't you?"  
"I wasn't at the mall, was I?" He grinned.  
"You - you - you --"  
"Comic genius? Sexy elf? Adorable cutie?" Kurt prompted.  
"YOU'RE GONNA *DIE*!" Kitty announced, launching herself at him.  
Kurt fended her off with a pillow, laughing at her the entire time. He  
was going to let her exhaust herself trying to beat him up, then  
appologise for the entire ordeal.  
It was better, that way.  
Then, he was going to turn off that verdammt game once and for all.  
Or maybe...  
Okay, maybe after he made SimKitty fall in love with SimKurt again.  
Just in case.  
  
~Fin~ 


End file.
